


the big bad wolf

by orphan_account



Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Bestiality, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Jacob's away, you're left to your own devices.





	the big bad wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Lovingly dedicated to [@letsjustanon](https://letsjustanon.tumblr.com/) on tumblr, who draws that good good content.
> 
> Also, please mind the tags. This is gross.

The sheets stick to skin as you writhe and squirm, fingers working ceaselessly between your legs.

Private time is a luxury here in the veteran's center, and with Jacob being gone all week, you're well in need of it. Running a region takes time and manpower and with the Resistance growing bold, Jacob had needed to take things in hand and deal with it personally. It made sense and you understood why, but, fuck. You missed him. You _missed_ him. 

And, honestly, you missed his cock.

If he were here, he'd have you screaming his name; he never would have allowed this much pent-up energy to exist in the first place. He'd bend you over his desk as he pulled your hair, he'd fuck you up against the balcony where anyone could look up and see, he'd keep you on the edge for _hours_ until you cried for it. He'd put his mouth between your thighs next to one of the dog cages and give everyone - prisoner and solider alike - a show. 

He'd - oh, fuck, he'd treat you right.

But he's off in the middle of the woods, doing only God knows what. And that means you're here, by yourself. _Suffering._ There's only so much you can do with your fingers and despite your best efforts, they feel lacking. Groaning, you pull your hand away and stare up at the ceiling, lust still gnawing a burning hole in your gut. Your pulse still kicks high like a drumbeat, but all you can think about is Jacob and how much you miss him. It'd be easy to lean back against the pillows and let him do all the work, and maybe this time his touches would be softer after this time apart. It'd be easy to let him take you apart and piece you back together slowly, brick by brick. 

Fingers creep back to the apex of your thighs, letting out a low sigh as they work against you. Images of Jacob - soft first, then rough - fill your head. This time it's easier to fall into a rhythm, imagining that it's _his_ hand that rubs your clit, that it's _his_ fingers that stray down to nudge against your opening. It makes it easier to melt into the sensations if you just _stop thinking_ and let your body act on autopilot. Jacob would stroke just like this, verging close to _too firm_ but it makes you moan. 

Maybe you didn't need him after all. 

Still, he remains the star of your fantasies - and it's so easy to picture the slant of his smirk, the cocky way he gets to work. It's easy to imagine the bed dipping under his weight and your fingers echo what his do in your mind's eye. When one plunges into you, it's much thinner than his would be, but you crook it regardless and gasp. You can almost _hear_ his laughter, feel a hot wash of air from his huff. Goosebumps rise as you keen, using your free hand to grab at your breast. A little imagination and patience have gotten you this far, and you're so close to some relief, _so close_ -

You linger there, jaw slack, dancing right on the edge, when you feel something warm, something _wet_ swipe across your clit.

You jolt, eyes snapping open in time to see one of Jacob's Judges with its muzzle buried between your legs. The red of its tongue is stark against plush white fur and you moan aloud as it keeps licking at you. There's not even enough time to really process what you're seeing, when suddenly you're coming harder than you ever have before. 

_Holy shit._

Blearily, you reach to push its large head away - even as your arms tremble with the aftershocks. The wolf is insistent, though, and hardly seems inclined to stop. It feels... nicer than you'd ever admit, but shame creeps up your spine and you scoot up on the bed, well out of the wolf's reach. You're not even sure how it got into the center, as they're always supposed to be locked up or being watched. But _this_ one must have slipped under someone's nose, and just happened to find its way up to your room. Well, Jacob's room, but. 

"Shoo," you tell it, frowning even as it just looks at you. The Judges have always made you uncomfortable to a degree - their training is brutal, the process horrifying, and the end product leaves them just as volatile as they are powerful. A wolf might be able to rip you limb from limb, but a Judge could do it in half the time and with even less effort. _This_ wolf, however, doesn't seem to be interested in violence. It only seems to be interested in _you._

It's gaze is intense, almost piercing. It's... strange, and there must be something in the water. Other than the Bliss, at least. Because even though you just came, you still ache. The wolf's tongue remains a prominent thought and the way it just stands there, looking at you, makes you bite your lip. They were well trained, weren't they? Surely it wouldn't _hurt you_ without cause.

(Even as you think it, you know it to be a lie. You've seen these Judges bring havoc to the mountains, and know that even Jacob's most hardened Chosen would give them pause.)

But, fuck. You're still horny, you're still alone, and you just had the best orgasm of your life. Might as well try to make it two-for-two, right?

Nervously, tentatively, you let your thighs fall back open as you scoot back down the bed, well within the wolf's range. The judge watches you, curiously, big nose twitching as it scents the air. It must smell you, must _like_ what it smells, because sure enough, it buries its muzzle back between your thighs.

You moan, loud and long, at the contact - the seemingly skilled way it works you over. Its tongue is longer than a man's - longer than _Jacob's_ \- and it licks where you're most sensitive and wet. It's clumsy but it feels good and, far sooner than you expected, you're squirming. _Panting._

You can't quite believe you're doing this, but it's amazing. Shame be damned, because you're coming again, and you all but _cry_ with how good it feels.

(Maybe this is why they keep the wolves around.

Maybe you should ask Jacob about it when he returns.) 

xxx

Jacob's week-long mission quickly turns into two. It seems there's more going on in his region than he let on, and it's the kind of chaos only he can oversee. He talks to you over the radio some nights, little more than a gruff voice through static. He says nothing of what he's doing, of who he's hurting; instead, he talks about you. 

About what he wants to do to you.

About what he's _going_ to do to you.

It's just like him, too, to wind you up and then leave you wet and _wanting._

It leaves you irritated and horny, frustration and pent-up energy raging in your gut. There's only one real thing to do to solve it, and you can easily imagine Jacob laughing from miles away. After coming around three of your own fingers and pretending they're his, you groan - flopping boneless back on the bed. Off in the night you hear a wolf howling, and soon enough, the center is full of answering calls. Usually the sound of the Judges is unsettling, but tonight, it only reminds you of the other - of the pleasure you found with one of the beasts.

And it gives you an idea.

Grinning, you reach over to the radio kept next to the bed. You buzz Jacob's channel and wait a moment before speaking: "Don't worry about hurrying back," you purr into the receiver, grinning. "I've got something that will keep me busy."

xxx

It's how you find yourself like this: half-undressed, on your hands and knees, in Jacob's bedroom with the door firmly locked. You're not alone, though, and you're firmly reminded of it when the Judge from before makes himself known. That wet tongue swipes you across your ass cheek, before going lower. You groan as it passes over your pussy, happy to arch your back and rock your hips back into the Judge's slobbering touches.

Impatience gets the best of both of you, though, and soon enough the Judge moves over you, paws slinging around your waist as he mounts you. He's big enough that all he _really_ has to do is stand over you, and the weight of him presses you just a bit more into the floor. You groan at the feel of fur against your thighs, keening as he begins to thrust blindly - shallow, excitable pumps.

How could this be a bad idea when it felt _so good?_

It only took a few thrusts for the Judge to push home, and once it did, it began to thrust in earnest. Its shaft is slimmer than Jacob’s, but the wolf thrusts hard and fast. The pace is dizzying as claws dig into your sides, keeping you right in place as its hips piston against yours. It feels wrong, but so good - it feels just like heaven. 

Already you can feel its shaft begin to swell, and there’s nothing you want more than to take all of it. Everything the Judge has to give. So you rock your hips back, moaning with effort, as the wolf fucks you intently and well into an orgasm. You gasp as you fall over the edge, and the feeling of your inner walls fluttering over the ever-growing shaft nearly pushes you into another one. Jaw goes slack as the Judge fucks you through it, each thrust sharper than the last.

Pleasure-pain nags at you as the Judge increases its tempo, and you can feel a definite swelling at the base. _The knot_ , you think with a gasp, before shoving your hips backward - intent on taking every inch of the wolf. Knot and all. It's what Jacob would want, after all. It's that thought that pushes you over the edge again, coming around the wolf's knot as he, too, finds release. Warm sperm pushes into you in hot pulses, kept inside by the knot firmly wedged. 

Each pulse seems warmer than the last; each pulse fills you to the brim.

There's a ringing in your ears that doesn't quite block out the sound of the wolf's ragged pants - or even your own. There's nothing you can do but bury your face against the cool, wooden floor and cry as he fills you up, breeds you. You're happy to exist in this blissful, dizzy state - focusing on nothing but the feeling of the wolf above you and its cock wedged well inside you. It's a heady feeling, one that you're surely addicted to now, and already you're thinking of the next time you'll be able to do this -

"When you said you'd be keeping busy," comes a gruff voice from the doorway, "This isn't what I had in mind."

You gasp as you strain to turn your head, eyes wide. A deer in the headlights, who's guilt is plainly obvious - the Judge still across your back, the opaque drops of semen staining the floorboards underneath your thighs. But Jacob doesn't look mad. In fact, he looks - pleased? There's surprise upon his ruined features, but he's practically _purring_ his approval as he pads over to the two of you. 

He crouches right in front of you, lips curved in a cruel smile, as he simply looks you over. You can practically hear the gears turning in his mind, and when your mouth opens to speak - to try to explain this - he simply shushes you. Presses a finger or two to your lips, before shoving them inside of your mouth. 

"If you wanted to be fucked like a bitch, baby girl, that's all you needed to say." His voice, still, isn't edged with anger. His pupils are blown, though, as his free hand goes to his belt buckle, undoing it as he goes. 

You whimper as the Judge shifts behind you, and Jacob presses forward at your front.


End file.
